


a home not yet a home

by Mayarene Rose (Paradise_of_Mary_Jane)



Series: Whumptober 2019 [13]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Robin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-14 08:27:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21012764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paradise_of_Mary_Jane/pseuds/Mayarene%20Rose
Summary: Dick just likes climbing to the roof sometimes. He doesn’t mean anything by it. He doesn’t. He just needs to be high up sometimes. He likes looking at the stars. Stars are hard to come by in the city and you need to be high up to even see them properly.He misses the strong wind, the clear air. Gotham doesn’t have either of those, but he sometimes feel a gentle sea breeze when he stands on top of the manor’s roof at midnight.And he definitely doesn’t need Bruce Wayne going after him. Or trying to. Struggling to fit out of the window Dick climbed out of and potentially break his neck.He doesn't need Bruce Waynepretendinghe’s going to break his neck to guilt Dick into going back inside.





	a home not yet a home

**Author's Note:**

> Day 14: Tear-stained

Dick just likes climbing to the roof sometimes. He doesn’t mean anything by it. He doesn’t. He just needs to be high up sometimes. He likes looking at the stars. Stars are hard to come by in the city and you need to be high up to even see them properly.

He misses the strong wind, the clear air. Gotham doesn’t have either of those, but he sometimes feel a gentle sea breeze when he stands on top of the manor’s roof at midnight. It’ll have to do, really. 

And yeah, sometimes he thinks about falling, too, but he’s been thinking about falling since… 

He’s an acrobat. Of course he thinks about falling. It’d be weird if he didn’t. And he climbs roofs sometimes, too. Those two things don’t have anything to do with each other. He doesn’t mean anything by it.

He doesn’t.

And he definitely doesn’t need Bruce Wayne going after him. Or trying to. Struggling to fit out of the window Dick climbed out of and potentially break his neck.

Or pretend that he’s going to break his neck to guilt Dick into going back inside.

(He’s probably not gonna break his neck. He’s making it look like his body’s all wrong, but his grips are right, his posture’s right. The angles are all right, just made to look a lot more awkward than they usually are.

Bruce Wayne’s strong and he knows how to climb out of complicated places. And he’s pretending he isn’t.

Bruce Wayne looks at the world with a blank smile and sharp eyes.

Bruce Wayne lies about a lot of things. Dick doesn’t trust him at all.)

“Why do you keep going after me?” Dick demands. He doesn’t know this man. This man who just decided to pluck him from an orphanage, just after things were past unbearable, only to leave him behind in an empty manor. “Why do you care? Just let me go.”

His hands are bleeding from the climb. That’s what he gets for not using the right equipment. His dad would have been so mad at him, if he knew. His dad would have been mad about a lot of things Dick’s been doing.

Dick’s just been so angry lately and his parents never liked it when he got angry.

_Being angry makes you do stupid things, _his mom always said. 

_You can’t fly when you’re angry, _his dad would add. _You can’t trust yourself and you’ll have trouble trusting other people as well._

Dick can’t trust himself not to fall right now, but he doesn’t mind. There’s always a hint of anger simmering underneath Bruce Wayne’s plastic smiles and Dick can’t trust him, either. 

And everyone else. Dick can’t trust them, either. Not when they won’t trust him.

Dick is falling. There’s no one he can trust to catch him. The circus left him behind and his parents are gone. Maybe he should have just fallen with them.

Dick steps closer to the ledge.

“Just leave me alone,” he says. He hates the way his voice cracks. 

“I can’t do that,” Bruce Wayne says. He’s still sitting on the windowsill, still pretending he can’t get out. Dick can’t be bothered to tell him what a bad impression he’s making. He got taken in by a man who lies like it’s breathing. 

Great.

“Why not?” Dick asks. “You were completely fine with doing it before.”

“Dick…” 

“I’m not going to jump,” Dick interrupts. “I just. I need to be high up right now.”

He doesn’t know why he’s explaining himself. He doesn’t know what he means. He just likes standing on the edge. He’s not going to fall. But.

He misses the feeling of falling, is all.

“Oh.” Bruce Wayne sounds uncertain, almost baffled. Dick thinks it’s real enough. “... May I stay?”

“Can I stop you?”

Bruce Wayne doesn’t answer. Dick sits on the roof, letting his legs swing over the sides. The air in Gotham is dark and smoky. It makes it hard to breathe. He can’t see Bruce Wayne from his angle. Can’t even feel him. The older man holds himself too still. Too used to waiting people out.

“I don’t understand why you’d want to,” Dick says. “I’m going to be here all night.”

He leans closer to the edge, watching the ground below it. He listens for Bruce Wayne but the city’s too loud and the man’s too quiet. Dick wants to scream. Wants to get angry. What is he hiding? Why is he watching Dick, waiting him out, stalking him like some predators?

_Don’t go up if you’re angry, Robin. You might not be able to get down._

“What do you want from me?” Dick demands.

“Right now I want you to come down from there,” Bruce Wayne says, but that’s a lie. Dick can hear a lie. He can hear the uncertainty. All the words unsaid.

_Being angry makes you stupid and reckless. Never fly when you’re angry._

Dick’s parents aren’t here. Their voices are lost in the wind, drowned out by the city.

Dick jumps.

He twists in mid-air and closes his eyes. The wind rushing past his ears and it’s almost familiar. It lasts for less than a second but it almost feels like home.

And then, a large hand, catches him by the wrist. The grip is strong and familiar. Dick looks up and Bruce Wayne is looking down at him, an unreadable expression in his face.

“You said you wouldn’t jump,” he says. His voice betrays nothing but it’s probably the most sincere Dick’s heard him. He still hides, but he seems most comfortable with that.

“Stop lying to me,” Dick says. “Stop pretending you’re something you’re not.” His own voice trembles. He’s been crying. His cheeks are wet. He doesn’t know when that started. 

Bruce Wayne pulls him up through the window and into the manor. Dick struggles. He doesn’t know why. He doesn’t want to be inside yet. He can’t. He can’t. He has to be somewhere else and--

All of a sudden, he’s pulled against a large body, pressing his face into that expensive suit, large hands wrapped around his body. Dick’s entire body is shaking. He’s crying and it’s stupid and he hates crying. Bruce Wayne is still wearing one of his fancy suits and Dick’s getting tears and snot all over it and he hates it. Hates everything about this place.

“I’m sorry,” Bruce Wayne says.

“Let go of me!”

Bruce Wayne doesn’t let go, no matter how much Dick struggles. Just holds on. And eventually, Dick relents. He’s so tired. His entire being aches and he’s so tired of staying in this place he doesn’t understand.

The night is still and Gotham is never quiet, but his ears are ringing from too much silence. Dick feels so very, very cold.

“Let me go,” he whispers.

“No,” Bruce Wayne says, and it feels like a promise.

It’s warm in his arms and Dick hates the comfort he finds in it.

**Author's Note:**

> your comments give me life :3


End file.
